A Sound Soul
by imalionrawr010
Summary: Hana and Thorn are a refined and articulate while Arya and Fletcher are rough around the edges but an excellent team nonetheless. Competition between these four and the others spark a soul collecting rush. Follows anime storyline. Crappy summary :
1. An Archer and Her Bow

**Dear reader, yes, I have written another fic with my ever faithful coauthor. We sincerely hope that you enjoy our story :) I don't believe we will be involving our OC's into romantic relationships with the canon characters. At least not seriously ;) Review please!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: An Archer and Her Bow<strong>

Long jaws with razor sharp teeth snapped several times. If it hadn't been for my quick gymnastics, I would have easily lost a foot. This kishin was definitely not what I had been expecting. Death had said it was a fire breathing kishin; Fletch and I expected it to be a carnie gone bad. But it was a dragon. A goddamn dragon. Turns out a firebreathing street performer was the one who went bad.

The dragon's scales were a stunning shade of blue, that sparkled in the street lamps of Death City. But there was no time to be admiring the beauty of the monster before me. Despite how glamorous the scales were, the kishin's eyes were empty black with the ever familiar red iris. The dragon reared his head back, giving a snort. It roared and rushed at me again. Like a batter at the last inning of a game, I swung my Welsh Longbow partner, Fletch. He hit the side of the dragon's massive skull, which stunned the beast and gave me enough time to put some space between us.

"What was that for?" Fletcher cried in his Welsh accent. "Bloody hurt..."

"Sorry Fletch," I uttered, as I scaled a short wall to climb onto a building. "I needed a distraction."

"And you picked me? Bloody Hell, girl, I think I'm cracked. Couldn't you have taken a shot?"

"Stop your whining, he was too close. You know an arrow would have just glanced off those scales. The further we get away, the more of our soul wavelength we can put into the arrow."

"Ooooohhh..."

Looking over my shoulder, I noticed we were far enough away. Reaching back to my empty quiver, I waited for an arrow to appear in my fingertips. The soul wavelengths that belonged to Fletch and I began to sync and there was soon an arrow in my hand, being drawn back and aimed at the dragon. He had taken flight and was nearing us.

"Ready, Fletch?" I asked, slowly raising the bow to aim properly.

From my peripheral, I saw a glint in the bow, Fletcher's grinning profile in the gleam. "We're a pair, you and me; let's go."

As I released the arrow, I felt a cool rush of air as the wavelength boosted the speed. There was a warmth in my limbs when the arrow pierced the heart of the beast. It produced a blood curdling screech as it faltered in the sky and then began to fall. As the beast fell, it's body dissintegrated, leaving behind the red soul of a kishin. Slowly, it fell into the palm of Fletcher's hand which protruded from the bow. His hand fed it to his mouth which had arrived on the bow.

"Mmn, quite delicious I must say," Fletcher purred, his hand retracting to the bow. He licked his lips which also disappeared into the bow.

"You're welcome," I sighed, slinging him over me, the string and bow pressed slightly into me. "Shall we call Death?"

"It's late," My weapon complained. "Can we just go home, Arya?"

"You know he's going to be cross with us if we don't." I reminded him as I decended the roof of a business and returned to the street.

Fletcher scoffed. "Call Spirit, then."

"No," I shook my head as I drew 42-42-564 on a window to call Death. "You know he's probably at some sleazy gentlemen's club."

"What's that about gentlemen's clubs?" The high pitched, goofy voice of Death spoke.

I jumped a bit; I hadn't really been expecting Death to answer quickly. "Oh, Fletch and I were talking about Spirit," That made Death chuckle a bit and then sigh as if the private life of his Death Sythe exhausted even him. "Anyway, we just collected soul number eighty-nine."

"Oh! Congratulations! You and Fletcher are certainly on your way to success!" Death cheered, clapping his blockish hands together. "Now that you've gotten to such a high number, I'm having a hard time finding kishins that'll give you two a real challenge. So, I've decided to pair you with another team."

"Another team?" I asked skeptically. "But if you're finding it hard to get us challenging souls, then why are we joining another team?"

"Because I've found a kishin with ten souls..." Death trailed off. I could feel Fletch drooling on my shoulder at the prospect of aquiring ten souls. "But it's not as it seems. He has one soul and is in the possession of nine others."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you mean he's stolen - er, I guess killed - nine kishin souls?" I held my chin with my forefinger and thumb.

"Absolutely correct!" Death cheered again. "Spirit, Doctor Stein, Sid, and myself have agreed it wouldn't be fair to allow one team to collect all ten souls. You two and another team are going to split the souls evenly. So, go home, get some sleep and come to school to meet your new team members!"

I was about to protest to the prospect of working with someone I wasn't used to working with. "He hung up on me."

"Well, let's do what he said," Fletcher, still as his second form, floated from my shoulders and transformed into his normal self. He was tall and lanky with ink black hair and eyes to match. His skin, however, was no where near as dark as his other features. In fact, if he lost anymore color, he could easily be confused for a ghost. "I mean, he is Death, after all. Let's go home, Pinky. I'm tired."

I screwed up my face as he called me Pinky. Just 'cause I chose to color my hair pink he had given me names like Cotton Candy and Pinky. Out of those two, I preferred Pinky. Rolling my soft brown eyes, I allowed Fletcher to put and arm around my shoulders as we walked home.

Now, when I say Fletch was tall, I meant it. His full height of six feet five inches translated to his second form. At first, it had been difficult for me to fight properly with him; I was five foot nine and should have been using a shorter bow. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I liked to think myself as a better shot than Death the Kid.

The streets were empty as he and I walked home. It was slightly eerie, and I couldn't help but think paraniod things. That shadow looked like a creeper hiding behind some empty wine casks. That tree looked like a ghoul from a distance. However, Fletcher's nonchalant attitude put me at ease. At a quarter to three in the morning, we acended the stairs to the apartment we shared. I was fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family who paid the bills for Fletch and I while we were still at DWMA.

As I yanked my boots off, followed by my clothes which were soon replaced by pajamas, I wondered what was going to happen to me after Fletch became a Death Sythe. Was I going to become another burnt out teacher who only partnered with a weapon when Death called for it? Or was I going to open that restaruant I always dreamed of? Perhaps my father was going to make me take over the family business. That made me shudder.

Not bothering to brush my teeth, I climbed into bed, curling into the fluffy comforter. It had been a long night and the adrenaline was still coursing through my veins. However, as Fletch crawled into the bed, even though he had his own, the hormone went away and I was able to relax. With the comfort of my partner next to me, I found myself soon falling asleep.

I woke up later that day, the clock said two twenty-four pm, to the sun flooding in through my curtains. Fletcher laid spread eagle on my bed, which had left me little room, a stream of drool ran down the side of his mouth. With a small chuckle, I crawled out of bed and went to the one bathroom we had to clean up. I leaned into the mirror, looking for any blemishes. Once I was satisfied with my discovery of none, I teased my hair a little. It had been pink for a few months, more like six, and I was bored of it. Maybe I would go back to it's natural brown? I wasn't quite sure yet.

Once I got out of the shower, and brushed my teeth, I went to my room to dress. Fletch wasn't there anymore, probably in the kitchen eating his cereal and watching tv, so I was able to take my time dressing. I picked a black tube top which showed off my streamlined body. I finished off the outfit with a white lace cardigan, skin tight pleather pants, and flats. The whole outfit was straight out of the eighties, most of my outfits were. Fletch loved teasing me about it, but I got him back with his seventies Mod wardrobe; longsleeved button up shirts, leather jackets, skinny jeans, trench coats, and his fancy suits with pants that were hemmed just above his ankles.

Neither of us really cared how late we were. There hadn't been any classes scheduled for our level; we should have been at home, still sitting on the couch in our pj's. I'm sure Fletch was just fine with going to the school. Anything to get out of painting my toes. The time was three twenty-one when we arrived. The other students had just gotten out of class and had gathered outside the school, making plans for later that night.

Fletcher deliberately made us pass a certain group of meisters and weapons. In the group was four girls and three boys. Two of the three boys, had a hard on for every meister or weapon that were more experianced than them. I had even seen them bothering a weapon with spikey blood red hair once, asking for advice.

"They are so cool," The white haired boy of the group spoke. His meister folded her arms and glared at him. With a snort, I gave Fletcher a small shove.

"Was that necessary?" I asked, facing him when we got to the door to the Death Room.

"Absolutely, darlin'," he cooed, bending to look me in the eye, sticking his hands in his pockets. His face was breaths away; a normal person would have used this opportunity to steal a kiss. I stuck my tounge out at the weapon.

As we entered the Death Room, walking down the long corridor to the platform where Death usually stood, Fletcher whistled a tune. I wondered if it was something from his homeland, the Welsh Isles, or something he had just come up with in his head. Knowing Fletch, he had probably made it up. As we neared Death, I noticed the familiar violet hair of one of my toughest rivals at DWMA.

"Oh no," I groaned. "Not her..."


	2. A Prickly Thistle

**Hope you liked chapter one! Here's #2 :]**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: A Prickly Thistle<strong>

I started grinding my teeth together as I looked her; Hana had been giving me a run for my money since we first started here. I always felt like I was catching up to her, even though she was probably the younger one. I did my best to slow down and keep my distance from her.

Hana was a Rapier Meister. She was a quiet and somewhat sensitive girl. She was small and fragile looking, as if anyone could easily break her in half. The white and black lace trimmed Lolita style dress she wore didn't help her presumed image. The rare times I've heard her speak, the voice was soft and gentle like the presence of a ghost. With her long hair - the shade of blooming flowers- and her bright spring green eyes, she looked like the meaning of her name. Hana looked just like a flower.

But from what I heard about when she was in a fight, Hana was ruthless and incredibly skilled.

"Pinky, if you walked any slower you'd be a statue." Fletcher teased, letting an abrupt laugh escape his lips.

This got Hana's attention, she turned around to face her, and with her eyes steady on mine I felt as if I should be very cautious.

"You haven't seen Thorn around have you?" She asked in her whispering voice.

Thorn was Hana's weapon, bold and very charming with a pleasant French accent. He had blood red hair and coal black eyes, a lot of the boys at this school thought he was cool and he flirted with about every girl in the academy. Thorn and Hana were as different as chocolate and vanilla ice cream; it was probably why they worked so well together.

"Never mind," she whispered just as I placed the face to the name. Hearing footsteps behind me I turned and saw the tall weapon strolling towards us, when we made eye contact Thorn gave me a playful wink.

"Bonjour Arya, congratulations on your victory." Thorn purred, I found it easy to understand why a lot of girls fell victim to his charm.

"Thorn, please... Death is waiting for all of us." Hana begged.

"She's right," Fletch said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and started to lead me down to Death's door.

HANA POV

I wasn't so sure I could work with Ayra and Fletcher; I am not one to trust so easily. Thorn and I had collected eighty-nine souls so far, so when I took this job I thought we could just get it ourselves. I guess Death had another idea on that. He told us in the meeting that the reason he wanted us on a team was because this was a mission usually considered for two star students. If we managed to do well then we would be raised to that rank.

"Hana, qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" Thorn whispered into my ear, his breath a hot burst of air against my skin.

"I'm just worried." I looked around the empty alleyway. I could feel Arya's soul about a mile or so away.

"Care to expand on that?"

"I'm worried that I won't work well with others." I confessed. Something inside of my squirmed just a little bit. I was speaking a half truth; I hoped that Thorn couldn't detect it.

"You're also worried that you'll be the weaker link," Thorn added with a sideways glance at me. He had a smug look on his handsome face. "Our souls connect daily mon amie. I know you better than you know yourself."

I felt my face grow hot. I still tried to hide things from him and it was foolish. I planted myself into the ground and tried to sift through my anger and embarrassment.

"Don't just stand there; we have a Kishin to kill." Thorn barked over his shoulder.

Before I could even take a step forward I felt something tug at my sixth sense. It felt like someone was yanking onto my hair. My body turned towards that feeling, I knew it was the Kishin. It was just a few blocks away from me. Arya was a little bit closer but I wasn't aware of how well she could sense souls.

"Thorn, weapon mode now!" I ordered, my tone shifted from its usual dainty doll one to a fierce fighter. The moment I felt the cold metal of the hilt of my weapon I felt as brave as any warrior. Gripping it tightly I rushed forward, letting my sense of its evil soul guide me.

By the time I got there Arya was already aiming an arrow- or attempting to. Every time she brought up her bow, the tall and looming monster would extend its pale and decaying arms, forcing her to abandon her attack and dodge.

"Hana, you've got this." Thorn's voice rang in my head.

Nodding I tucked the sword towards my body, with the Kishin's attention on Arya; I had the perfect moment to make an attack. Racing forward I made sure to stay out of sight completely as I raised my sword and let it plunge into the creature's side. Blood bloomed out, trying to spray me in its mist but I backed up to avoid the mess.

If there was one thing I hated, it was messes.

The Kishin howled in pain and recoiled from its attack on Arya. Now it focused its wild eyes on me; with its mouth open in a snarl it lunged for me.

I leapt away on dancers legs, smirking. "You're going to have to go better than that." I taunted as I ran circles around it. Every now and then the tip of blade would meet its skin and sink deep into it.

Just when I thought I was going to wear it down the beast released a hellish laugh. It extended its hand out, palm up as if it was about to catch something. Looking from Arya to me, it grinned like the big bad wolf. In one quick crushing motion it closed its palm.

My world went into crushing darkness.

I was frozen in place by confusion.

What was this?

"Hana watch out!" Thorn screamed.

A second later a claw as sharp as any executioner's axe raked down the right side of my body. I stumbled back tripping over my own feet as I tried to make my world out in the darkness.

"What are you blind?" Thorn continued, "move!"

"Thorn, I think I am..." I whispered, the fear in my body was turning my courage cold. I wanted to slink away and lick my wounds.

"Then use your other senses, you're not dead." I could see Thorn's face in my mind's eyes. I could feel the trust he had in my abilities and in his own training. I took in a deep breath and turned up the volume of my sixth sense. Ever since I was very young I'd always been very sensitive to other worldly things.

"Arya, can you see?" I shouted not bothering to turn my head to look at her. I needed all of my concentration on the Kishin.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She shouted back. Her answer was all that I needed.

"I am going to distract it long enough for you to get a few shots in. Aim for either the throat or heart."

I felt the air change around me as a small whooshing sound filled my ears, I moved as quickly as I could to the left. I felt just the sharp tips of the claws kiss my already bleeding wound.

Back and forth I went, dodging the blows as best as I could. The longer that it went on the clearer the picture of the Kishin's movements became to me. The demon and I were dancing; dancing was something that I was better at than fighting. We spun in large looping circles; I dipped by body down gracefully when his arms would come crashing towards me. It was a waltz that was going to lead to certain death. Only one of the dancers was going to win a prize in this competition.

Suddenly a series of howls came from the Kishin. Arya's arrows must have been right on their mark. Taking my chances I blindly leapt into the air, knowing I was only a few near the enemy. I tilted my blade to make it into a killing blow, aiming for what I hoped was its neck. When Thorn's body sunk into the flesh I used my body weight to carry me and the blade across and down. This time it was unavoidable to get splattered by its evil blood.

By the time I landed on my feet the world filled my eyes, bright and colorful like a dream.

"Damn Hana..." Arya whispered, her eyes were wide in what I hoped was admiration and not fear.

I looked over at her and gave her a nervous smile. I knew that I looked as awful as the Kishin behind me, maybe even worse. "I try my best."

"Don't start celebrating now," Thorn warned in a growl. "Look."

Arya and I snapped back into reality, the Kishin was still grinning. Its head was flopping side to side like a wobbling stack of books. Its hands were reaching out for a small carelessly stitched bag. The bag that it kept the nine human souls in- plunging its head into the sack it inhaled every single one. Little by little the wounds on its skin started heal. Soon, it started to look stronger. Tossing the bag aside, no longer needing its services the Kishin looked at us with an evil grin. But it didn't lurch forward into an attack. Instead it turned tail and ran into the night; it ran faster than my shocked feet could ever carry me. The monster left us all alone in the night with the moon shining over heard like a disappointed parent. This was going to get a lot worse before it could ever get better.


	3. What am I Going to Do?

**Sorry it took so long to update! Hope you enjoy. And please please please, review!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: What am I Going to Do?<strong>

ARYA POV

"Thorn, weapon mode, now!" Hana shouted. The call for her weapon alerted me and my attention snapped to Fletcher. He smirked as he transformed into his second form. As I grabbed him, I already had an arrow prepared to be notched. The kishin had other plans for me, though. It swung it's arm at me, which I avoided by releasing my arrow and performing a few gymnastics moves.

"Fletch, I couldn't sense that kishin. Did you?" I asked, avoiding another swat by the monster.

"Darlin', if I had been felt it, I would have said something," Fletcher growled as I dropped to my belly to avoid another swing. "Maybe we're getting weak?"

I refused to believe my partner and I weren't living up to our reputation. We had always been able to sense souls; even sitting in a classroom, Fletcher had once felt a kishin soul in the desert. There was something afoul here. I questioned if it was the kishin who had blocked my sensing abilities. glancing over at Hana and Thorn, I questioned if it had been them who cancelled out our powers.

"Arya, move!" Fletcher shouted at the rotting hand of the kishin moved to swat me away.

I couldn't move. As if I had stepped in quick drying cement. Bracing myself for empact, I waited for the pain. But it never came. Looking over at Hana, I noticed that she had given the beast a blow that made me wince. Blood spurted from the wound she had delivered. The kishin wailed and turned it's attention to her.

I watched as she danced around the beast, taunting it. Occassionally, the blade of her rapier met the flesh of the monster. If I hadn't been watching, I wouldn't have known the blade would sink all the way to the hilt and Hana would ever so gracfully take it back and continue.

"She's fast." I noted.

"Aye," Fletcher agreed. "If you'll stop staring at her, we can be just as fast."

As I was about to do what my weaponm suggested, I saw the kishin raise his hand, laughing at Hana while he did so. He closed his hand and Hana froze. Something had happened to her and she wouldn't, or couldn't, move. I gasped; magic! It was heavy in the air, that I could sense. Obviously the kishin had cast a spell over Hana.

With one fell swoop, the kishin dragged a grotesque claw down Hana's side. As she stumbled backwards, I didn't dare wonder how bad the gash hurt. The kishin, satisfied that it had taken down one Meister, turned to me, its evil smile returned. For fear that it was going to cast the same spell on me, I ran. Hopefully my tactic would work. He couldn't cast his magic if he didn't have a target he could see.

"Arya, can you see?" Hana shouted at me. Not letting my concentration be focused elsewhere, I refused to look at my temporary partner.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I called back.

"I am going to distract it long enough for you to get a few shots in. Aim for either the throat or heart."

From what I gathered, she couldn't see, so I didn't nod. Reaching back to my quiver, I found it was full. Guessing it was Fletcher's doing, I figured I'd thank him later. Taking three arrows, seperating them with my fingers, I strung my bow and fired. Below the building I stood on, Hana appeared to be dancing with the kishin, her moves more graceful than a ballerina.

The kishin howled when my arrows reached him, peircing its cold heart. Hana lept into the air, plunging her weapon into the kishin's neck. I was on the ground when she landed. The monster's head had nearly been severed and blood seeped from almost every inch of the thing's body.

"Damn, Hana..." I said with a hint of jealousy.

"Is that a green monster I sense?" Fletcher prodded.

"Why couldn't you have been a Scottish broadsword?" I grumbled.

"Well, for one I'm bloody Welsh, and two, you've never held a broadsword, have you? Even with our soul wave lengths, I wouldn't be too heavy, but still awkward. Broadswords are not in the least bit graceful-"

"Don't start celebrating now," The voice of Thorn called to all of us. "Look."

The four of us watched as the kishin retrieved a terribly sewn drawstring bag. It opened the bag and stuck its head in, devouring the other souls. The damage Hana and I and our weapons had cause healed faster than I care to say. With a demonic grin and a whoop of laughter, I turned away and ran, more powerful and frightening than ever.

"Does this mean I lose all my souls?" Fletcher whined.

* * *

><p>"I don't get it, Professor," Fletcher leaned against the lecture hall desks, arms crossed. "How could Arya and I <span>not<span> sense that monster. It was huge! Also, do we still have our souls?"

The four of us had dragged ourselves back to the Academy, all in a sour mood. Between our mental wavelength, Fletcher blamed the other two, claiming we could have taken the monster down without them. As much as I preferred working alone, I was quick to defend the other two; he and I hadn't been able to sense it. If Hana and Thorn hadn't been there, the kishin would have done the same thing to me and we'd both be dead. I wouldn't have been surprised if Hana and Thorn discussed the same thing.

"Hmn," Professor Stein pondered all we had told him, turning the bolt that went through one side of his head to the other. "I would think you would still have all of them. And I wouldn't be surprised if your ability was blocked because of Hana and Thorn's overwhelming wavelengths."

"Overwhelming?" Hana squeaked, perhaps embarrassed that she and Thorn didn't know how far they let their soul wavelengths extend.

"Yes," Stein nodded. "Even now your souls are over powering my abilities which I've had a lifetime to perfect."

Thorn puffed out his chest and looked at me, wiggling his eyebrows. "I knew we were strong-"

"It's not strength," the Professor interupted. "It's pride. Mostly yours, Thorn."

Fletcher stiffed one of his famous whooping laughs. With the flick of his neck, Thorn glared at Fletcher.

"Perhaps if you weren't occupied with objectifying your Meister-"

"Objectifying? Just what in the bloody Hell-" Fletcher pushed himself off of the ancient wood desk and strode closer to Thorn.

"You gawk at her like she is, err, how is it in English, mon ami?" Thorn looked back at Hana. "Morceau de viande?"

"Piece of meat." Hana uttered, wishing greatly to stay out of the heated conversation.

"'_Piece of meat_'? Arya is definitely not meat, and I certainly don't treat her that way!"

"'Ow do you know?" Thorn's accent heavy in his heated speech. Fletcher's was the same. Each word from both of them was less and less understandable. "'ave you asked 'er?"

With a wild look in his eye, and a burning crimson in his ears, Fletcher turned to me.

"Arya, do I treat you as such?" My weapon ground out. I was surprised by the silence the professor held. Perhaps he just didn't care about it or her thought the argument would settle itself.

I shook my head; I was with Hana, I didn't want anything to do with this argument. "No."

"See," Fletcher whipped around to face Thorn again. "Arya is my Meister and I treat her with respect. I know her abilities and I know mine. Unlike you who crowds out his Meister's wavelengths with vain-"

Thorn cut off Fletcher's insult as he delivered a bruising punch to my weapons's chin. The blow sent Fletcher reeling back a few feet before he pounced back at Thorn, giving him a hit just as hard as he had recieved. Thorn took the punch to his nose, sending a nice spray of hot blood at Fletcher. Hana and I stood on the sidelines, watching the boys fight. While Hana tried to get their attention to make them stop fighting, I just stood and watched.

"Arya, aren't you going to stop them?" Hana looked at me, a begging in her eyes.

"No," I crossed my arms. "Both of them are getting what they deserve, to be honest."

Hana opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by the cool, calm voice of Professor Stein. "Enough."

The bruised and bloodied weapons froze and looked over at Stein. Fletcher had a hold of Thorn's collar, his fist raised, ready to defend. Thorn had a fist raised as well when Stein had stopped the fight.

"Now that that outburst is out of your system, time to move on. Arya, Hana, will you take your weapons home and clean them up? Tomorrow, we start from scratch."

My flats slapped the marble floor in the lecture hall as I approached Thorn and Fletcher. I wasn't sure how, but I pryed Thorn's shirt out of Fletcher's fist and pulled him out of the room. As we walked down the hallway, Fletcher yanked the aquablue bandana that had been on another Meister's head.

"Hey!" A punk by the name of Black Star protested. "Gimme that back!"

"Sorry kid, I need it," Fletcher held the rag to his nose to stop the bleeding. "Besides, bandana's aren't suited for you."

While Black Star's weapon held him back and spoke calming words in his ear, I couldn't help but laugh. "What am I going to do with you, Fletch?" I asked as we left the school and walked down the long stair case leading to DMWA. The wind touseled Fletcher's black hair.

"Dunno, Pinky," He shrugged, a smile on his face. "Love me?"


End file.
